Love Will Keep Us Together
by Daria234
Summary: Cupid makes Neal fall in love with Peter, but a lovestruck Neal is not nearly as smooth as he wishes. Cupid also makes El fall for Moz. Overall, Peter is very confused. Cracky schmoop. Slash and het.


Author's Note:

Originally for the Valentines Day fic exchange on whitecollarfic on livejournal. The prompt was for Cupid's arrow to make Neal pine for Peter, but with a happy ending for El too.

Fic:

Beauty, charm, and seductiveness.

All good qualities.

But when someone uses them to seduce wantonly, when someone allures and entraps others with desire, while having no intention of surrendering to love himself, it is an insult to Love itself.

Or, more precisely, to Love himself.

But Cupid has a way of bringing justice to those who think his arrows pierce only the hearts of lesser men. Cupid has his ways of making proud men humble.

He sees Neal Caffrey, having lunch with his friends, having flirted with the host to get the best table, and with the waiter to get half the bill comped. As Peter Burke walks in, Cupid sees that his eyes are narrowed at Caffrey, that he feels frustration and suspicion for the young man. With a smile, Cupid aims at Neal's heart just as Peter walks in and clasps him on the shoulder.

Direct hit.

His friends miss the moment as they are whispering something to each other, giggling about the two men, it seems. Cupid smiles again and decides that more love is always a good thing, and he cheerfully sends another arrow into the dark-haired woman's heart. His arrows will either bring them happiness or throw them into disarray - either will be equally amusing, Cupid decides as he leaves them to let the sweet poison of his arrows do their work. His choice of arrows dictated that their love craze would last only a couple of days, but surely that would be enough to open their eyes to what love could do to them.

~ooo000ooo~

Neal stared up at Peter, startled, as if it is the first time seeing him. He was suddenly nervous, and so he stands up too quickly, accidentally dropping his napkin from his lap to the floor. He clumsily reached for it then and hit his head on the table, but quickly recovered with another grin at Peter.

Peter just responded with a confused frown, and then reluctantly decided to help him back in his chair. "Neal, are you okay?"

Neal's eyes gazed up at him and Peter almost thought that Neal's eyelashes fluttered before he said, "I've never been better, Peter," and flashed him an enormous smile. And a wink.

Neal winked.

Peter looked at him skeptically but then said, voice gruff with annoyance, "When you said you were going to discuss the case with friends, I guessed Haversham might be here, but I didn't think you would also invite my wife."

"Your wife is a brilliant woman," Neal smiled, not taking his eyes off of Peter, "After all, she had the good sense to marry you." Neal pulled out the empty chair next to him then and pleaded, "Join us? I'll buy you anything you like."

Peter looked at him, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what he was playing at. He raised an eyebrow at El to ask for a clue.

But Elizabeth was far too busy with running her fingers around Mozzie's earlobe to answer. Meanwhile, Mozzie just shifted uncomfortably to get away from her, nervous look on his face.

"El?" Peter asked.

"Yeah?" she said impatiently, not really moving her attention away from Haversham.

"What are you doing?"

"Having lunch with a charming, sophisticated, beautiful man," she replied, "And with Neal, too."

Moz jumped up suddenly and yelled, "Entrapment! I know entrapment when I see it!" He turned to Peter and said, "I don't know what your scheme is, Suit, but it's not going to work!" And he gathered his things and quickly left.

"Moz! Come back!" Elizabeth said as she got up to run after him, but Moz's shriek of "Stay away from me!" made her hang back and slump slowly back into her seat at the table with a pout.

"Okay," Peter said, "What is going on here?"

"You look really nice today, Peter," Neal said as he stared at Peter with a ridiculous grin on his face. "Hey, they have a great creme brulee here. It's flavored with orange flowers and honey and topped with spiced strawberries. I would love to feed it to you with my fingers."

Peter gave him a look. _The look,_ to be precise. The look that meant that Neal had ceased to be amusing and it was stopping right now.

But Neal just continued gazing at him, seeming... enraptured.

Peter looked again to El. His rock. The woman who had a good head on her shoulders no matter what.

She ignored his desperate confusion and instead asked him, "Do you think Mozzie would like it if I tried a different hairstyle."

_Okay,_ Peter thought, _Don't panic. Just... pretend this is a case. What would you make of their behavior?"_

"Are you two on drugs?" Peter blurted out.

"Of course not, Peter," Neal answered dreamily, "You know I don't do drugs."

"I do know that."

"You know everything about me. You pursued me all those years, took the time to learn me inside and out. It's impressive. Did I ever tell you that, Peter? That I find you very... impressive."

Peter stared at him for a second and then put the back of his hand on Neal's brow to check for a fever. Neal closed his eyes and let out a tiny moan at the contact; his face felt a little flushed but not actually feverish.

Peter was nonplussed by the reaction but a glance at El showed that she was nursing her wine glass, paying no attention to them as she stared into her merlot looking troubled and confused.

"El? You okay?' Peter asked. Elizabeth would be direct with him, he knew.

"What?" she said, "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Look if you're busy at work later, don't worry about calling. I have big plans all this week, so you know, I'll see you when I see you." She grabbed her purse and walked out then, barely giving him a second glance.

Peter gaped for a moment, until Neal said, "You look _so_ adorable with your mouth hanging open like that."

Peter closed his mouth.

Then he picked up his phone, called Haversham, and yelled, "Did you drug my convict and my wife?"

"Talk to my lawyer, you insufferable tool of the corporate oligarchy!" Moz yelled and then immediately hung up. A minute later, however, he called back and said, "Of course I didn't drug them. Maybe it's food poisoning. Or maybe not, since I feel okay. Either way, do me a favor and let me know when it's safe to be around them again."

"Sure," Peter said and hung up. Neal was still staring at him with an uncharacteristically stupid smile on his face.

"Time to get back to work, Neal," he said.

Neal sprung up to help Peter with his jacket. "Anything that makes you happy, Peter."

~ooo000ooo~

Neal needed to find a way to express how he felt. He needed to make a grand romantic gesture that would prove his devotion. Most importantly, he needed to find a way to make himself irresistible.

The primary difficulty in this plan was that Peter Burke seemed to be the person most apt at resisting the charms and ploys of Neal Caffrey.

But this was no ploy. And Neal would show Peter how honest his love was.

Neal just had to figure out how.

This was important. Because Neal had never wanted anyone this badly. He had never _longed_ for anyone like this. He had never felt every part of his body and mind so fixated on the thought of one man, he had never _burned_ with such desperate need for his love to be returned, and he had certainly never lusted after anyone so much he was honestly afraid he might leap across the table just to taste those lips or squeeze that ass.

So proving his love wasn't just a good idea. It was a necessity.

After thinking about it most of the day, getting several angry comments from Peter for being distracted -- not that Neal in the least minded that low growl of anger that made Peter's voice swell with power -- Neal finally came up with the perfect plan.

He would write Peter a song. A song about the truest, purest love that ever was.

He sat at June's piano, humming and playing a few chords. Really, it wouldn't be the music that would be a challenge for Neal. It would be the lyrics.

Neal was, unfortunately, a terrible poet. He couldn't write song lyrics well at all, even though he had tried a few times when he was younger. And of course there are many songwriters who proudly belt out the most awful lyrics, but Neal had good enough taste to recognize that his own lyrics were really quite terrible.

But then, Neal had never had the inspiration of true love. And the romantic in him just felt like a love song was the way to go.

So he started to jot down a few of his ideas.

"Peter, you are lovelier than a painting  
And that's why I plan to steal you,  
I hope that I can keep from fainting  
The very first time I get to feel you."

Okay. That was a disaster. First, Peter doesn't like stealing. Second, Neal would never faint at just a touch. Well, probably never. And third, the lyrics were just generally stupid and possibly creepy.

He tried again.  
"Peter, Peter, Peter Burke,  
Loving you is such hard work.  
It makes my heart beat far too fast,  
But that's the cost of love that lasts.

I love the way you smile at me,  
I love the way you set me free,  
I love the way you nail the bad guys  
And if you love me, I'll stop my sad sighs.

And you can always challenge me,  
I'm never as sharp as when I'm with you.  
Your bad boy side makes tingle,  
Your voice makes me tremble too.

Your eyes are deep like amber,  
Your body's like a Rodin,  
Or a Claudel, which is very similar.  
Either way, I'm a fan."

Neal slammed his hand down in frustration on the piano top before feeling guilty and apologizing to the piano. But really, he had forgotten how frustrating it was to do something he was truly bad at. Really, that didn't even rhyme. And the rhythm was a mess. And it was just silly, and didn't even begin to describe how beautiful and amazing and brilliant and wonderful and kind and true Peter was.

But if anyone deserved another attempt, it was Peter, Neal thought. And Peter always said that hard work gets you good things, and Peter's so smart, and he really cares, and if there were justice in the world, every single love song would be about Peter.

Neal felt another wave of determination, and tried again. This time he opted for a slower song, the kind they could dance to on a rooftop, each line lingering a bit at the end.

"Peter, I want to drink you in - like - fine - wine.  
Peter, I want to run my tongue - up - your - spine.  
Peter, I want to lick your cock until I taste-"

No, Neal realized, that wouldn't work. Love songs are supposed to be condensed versions of epic love stories, not just porn with a better sense of chord structure.

He gave it another try, stubbornly devoted.

"Peter, this anklet binds us together,  
Your handcuffs a chain that links our souls.  
Wherever I go, you'll find me still,  
For the Fed and the con must stick to their roles.

But now it's time to change our story,  
It's my turn now to chase after you,  
And when I catch you, when you want to be caught,  
You'll see how the liar and thief turns true.

The light from your smile will grow something inside  
Of me and I know that I will not hide  
From that man that I know I can learn how to be,  
The man that I know you want to make me."

Neal stared at the lyrics for a second. Then he crumpled them up and threw them away. The rhythm was still off. And the language was pretentious. It lacked wit.

And besides. As much as he wanted- needed - Peter, as much as he ached for him, body and heart, it kind of scared Neal that he would actually promise that much to Peter.

The most scary part was that Neal wasn't even sure it was a lie.

~ooo000ooo~

Neal dreamed of Peter that night.

The next day, every time Peter brushed against him, every time he felt the warmth of Peter's body so much as near him, Neal's mind leaped back to the dream of the night before.

Peter noticed that Neal was acting funny yet again.

He also noticed that Neal kept excusing himself for mysterious reasons.

And that Neal kept staring at him and smiling at him and offering to be helpful and paying him largely undeserved compliments about the smell of his aftershave or the line of his jaw.

It was weird.

Peter knew that Neal was up to something, but Neal was far too smart to think that Peter would fall for simple ass-kissing and puppy-dog-eyes. He asked Jones and Cruz if they had any theories as to what was causing Neal's sudden mobilization of this odd new persona.

"I haven't noticed any difference," Jones said with a shrug.

Cruz scrunched her mouth to one side as she thought about it and then finally said, "Well, maybe it's A LITTLE more exaggerated than usual."

"What's more exaggerated?" Peter asked in frustration.

"Neal's crush," she answered.

Jones nodded as if it were obvious.

Peter stared at them and then walked out, wondering if everyone in the world was going crazy. Neal Caffrey doesn't fall in love with Feds. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't act like a lovesick kid. Well, he sort of did with Kate for awhile, but still... And it's not like Neal wasn't appealing, like Peter hadn't ever noticed exactly how appealing and kind-hearted and thrillingly sharp Neal could be. But still.... it was all so strange. Peter could tell something was off.

Finally, he decided to call El. She didn't want to be bothered, but Peter really needed an explanation, so he locked his office door, sat at his desk, and dialed his phone.

"Peter?" she answered, "I'm busy looking for Moz, can't talk."

"Wait! Why are you looking for Moz?"

"I'm in love with him. Didn't I tell you?"

"No. You didn't tell me," Peter answered, perplexed. They were both free to see who they wanted, but Peter didn't expect Elizabeth to fall for that bizarre Haversham fellow.

"Hey, I know!" she said, "Ask Neal if he'll come over to the house tonight and tell me about what Moz likes. That way, I'll be able to convince him we have common interests."

"Um, Elizabeth, it's not like you to feel like you have to pretend to be someone you're not to-"

"Just tell Neal to come over!" she snapped.

".....Okay. But I should warn you, Neal is acting really oddly."

"What do you mean?"

"He keeps.... he just stares at me, El. All day. I don't know what he's up to."

"He's probably just trying to get in your pants, honey. Look, tell Neal that I'll give him some tips about how to rev you up, if he'll tell me about Moz."

Peter's mouth moved as he tried to tell his brain to form a response. It didn't work.

She continued, "Oh, you're right. That would totally be awkward 'cuz you're at work. I'll call Neal myself. But tonight you go do something else for dinner so Neal and I can talk privately."

"Sounds like a great plan," he answered with great sarcasm.

"Good, thanks, honey," she said, not bothering to notice his tone. She hung up then, and Peter hesitated for just a few brief seconds before banging his forehead into his desk.

~ooo000ooo~

Cupid had pierced their hearts with arrows that would make them fall in love for two days. He could have made the love last longer, but he wanted the humans to have to do at least some of the work.

Two days after an arrow went through his heart, Neal comes to Peter.

"So..." Neal says, almost seeming embarrassed, "I've been acting kind of ... unusual lately."

"Yup," Peter acknowledges, eyes set on Neal, wondering if he was about to get answers.

"I really don't understand it myself," Neal says. "Probably just stress."

It was an awkward moment, Peter could see, and for a second, he wondered if maybe Neal Caffrey wasn't quite the liar he used to be. But then his rational mind took over again and he asks, "Were you playing me?"

"No," Neal answers, looking offended, but then Peter can see the regret wash over his face; Neal wishes he had lied and said yes.

Peter is gentle then, even as he orders, "Tell me."

Neal looks him in the eye, hesitant. Afraid, even. Not very Neal-like.

Peter repeats, "Tell me. Please."

"So the thing is, Peter. I think I like you."

"Yeah," Peter acknowledges, not able to deny that he knows.

"I don't mean as a friend."

"I know what you mean."

"You've known for how long?" Neal asks.

Peter is tempted to say for a couple of days. Instead, he tells the truth. "For a while. I wasn't sure until yesterday. But I've suspected for a while."

Neal swallows. "Have you... been using this to keep me in line?"

Peter grimaces slightly, but given Neal's honesty, he doesn't want to lie. "Sometimes."

Neal nods, but Peter can see his mind, his eyes, are rejecting this, are looking for another answer.

Peter knows it's a bad idea to give it to him. Neal can take a little bit of information and spin it into all manner of trap. But then, Peter doesn't know when he'll get the chance to say it again.

So Peter admits, "It's mutual, Neal. I tried to deny it. But what you feel... I feel it too."

Neal looks at him, stunned. Peter had assumed that Neal would take his irresistiblility for granted, but Neal looks _amazed_ at Peter's truth. He rushes at Peter then, almost awkwardly, enormous smile on his face. They kiss, Neal gripping Peter's waist like a lifevest, Peter moving his own hand up to gently caress the back of Neal's head as his tongue works its way between Neal's lips.

When they finally part, both men are out of breath.

"Come home with me tonight?" Peter asks with a grin and a lick of his lips.

Neal laughs and nods. "I don't think I've ever been this grateful for temporary insanity."

They kiss again, this time harder, Peter's hands grasping Neal's hips tightly, Neal moaning when Peter ends with a quick nibble to his neck.

He recovers in time to say, "Peter, I know you're worried about whether I'm being honest with you. But about this, I am. I promise you."

Peter smiles. "I know," he says, "And... well, since I trust you and I want you to trust me, there's something I have to confess."

"What?" Neal asks, worried.

"You were acting so weird last night, Neal... while you were at dinner with El, I sort of... went through your trash."

Neal takes less than a second for the confusion to turn to embarrassed outrage. "Those songs weren't about you," he says without thinking.

"They used my name," Peter answers, a bit too smugly.

"I hate you," Neal mutters.

Peter smiles widely and says, "No. You really don't."

And because Peter moves his mouth back onto Neal's neck, Neal finds a way to forgive him for being both cocky and right.

~ooo000ooo~

The next morning, the four of them end up in the Burke kitchen all at once.

"Awkwarrrdddd," Moz says, still rubbing his eyes.

"Not at all," Elizabeth says, kissing him on the cheek. She looks at Peter then and says, "I'm happy for you both."

"So how did you two...?" Peter asks, still uncertain about them.

"Well, Elizabeth apologized for chasing me for two miles through Central Park, and I apologized for accusing her of being a covert agent of the bureaucratic-industrial complex, and once we sat calmly and discussed it, we realized we had a ton in common!" Moz answers, gesturing happily.

"Oh really?" Neal asks, amused.

"Can it," El answers playfully, "I didn't use any of the stupid tricks you told me to, Neal. I was just myself, and it turns out, I'm pretty damn amazing."

"Agreed," Moz says with a smile as he took a bite of a bagel.

"That's very romantic," Neal replies, "Don't you think Peter?"

"What?" Peter asks, still groggy, "Oh right, El, I'm so happy for you and Mr. Haversham."

"Peter, you're barely able to stand you're so tired," El observes with an amused look.

"Oh, it's not because he's tired," Neal brags, before Peter wraps his fingers in his own and says, "Let's go back to bed and you can see how awake I really am."

Neal shrugs happily and follows Peter hand-in-hand back to their room.

"Think they'll last?" El asks Moz as they watch the two men walk away.

Moz snorts a laugh and says, "Those two basketcases? Not without tons of help from us."

El smiles and kisses him again. "Then I guess it's a good thing we're both sticking around."

Moz looks adoringly at her and wonders how it's possible in a world full of problems and chaos and the machinations of ill-intentioned powers, that in matters of Love, all four of them managed to hit a perfect bullseye.

Love, of course, knew that they had a little help.


End file.
